Do They Feel ?
by VladsGirl
Summary: Why yes, aparently, they do. Mr. Smoker thinks Mr. Hunter looks mighty fine in the Savanna heat...  SmokerxHunter Mature rating


Do They Feel?

Well, of course. They're people, after all. Blood and flesh hungry people. CEDA is to blame for that. Among the hundred people CEDA experimented on, several were semi-successful. And two of those infected were dubbed "The Smoker" and "The Hunter". Being given the superhuman ability to rapidly grow entrails such as the tongue and gaining thousands of tumors about his body, the smoker is able to withstand damage (normal experimentation protocol) and attach with it's abnormally large tongue. As for the hunter, CEDA was interested in experimenting on someone who was professional in Parkour. CEDA had attempted to use this to their advantage and improve bone durability and flexibility to allow the hunter to leap farther and harder. Of course, as we all know, this backfired and severely infected all humans who were tested on, making them infected with the chemicals used on their bodies and cause them to slowly rot away and create an unhealthy hunger for living flesh and a drive to kill.

But just because they are rotting does not mean they can not feel. They go into an animalistic state of mind. The smoker and the hunter are naturally very close relationship wise, as they work together and always stick close. So now, with the taller's heart barely beating and the heat straining the grey clad's patience, the two stood in the New Orleans heat, awaiting living flesh to pass.

The Smoker leaned over the Hunter, appearing almost _obsessive_ in a way. The Hunter sat, cross legged, as they both had a feeling there were no delicious survivors passing for a long time. The Smoker held a cigarette in his mouth. Funny how even in an animalistic way the man still had a desire for nicotine and pushed his rotting body to find a new pack once the old one was out.

Suddenly, The Hunter became irritated with the ever growing heat and began to claw at his jacket, almost squealing with annoyance. The Smoker watched, unamused but interested in whatever his friend was trying to accomplish. Grey shreds of cloth flew through the air as the shorter ripped his jacket to shreds. The duct tape around his arms was extremely difficult to remove, not having the dexterity to remove it properly. The Smoker was no longer watching for the entertainment- but the view of the Hunter's tightly toned chest. The taller didn't think it was possible- but the temperature was rising ever further. The building they stood on seemed to rise. The smoker looked around him at the city of New Orleans - large, tall buildings all around. Nothing could distract him from his friend's little "show".

Finally, with everything removed from his torso, the Hunter lay panting, exhausted, sweaty, and frustrated in the heat. The Smoker felt his blood rushing to his groin. The decaying body became alive and stable again. The Hunter looked up at his tall friend curiously. Desire began to build within the Smoker and animalistic instincts kicked in. The taller's tongue flung out of his mouth, wrapping around the shorter's chest, instantly trapping him and pulling him to his feet. The Hunter snarled, disagreeing with what his friend was doing.

The tongue began to slither around the pale body like a snake- around his arms and up his neck- trapping the Hunter evermore. The Smoker ripped off the rest of the Hunter's clothing before trying to pull down his trousers- which wasn't that hard, seeing as they constantly sagged from his hips anyways. His fully erect cock flung out from his boxers, mild tumors decorating the shaft. The Hunter became more and more irritated, as he couldn't move because of that damn tongue. The taller brought the Hunter's hips close to his own and with one foul move, thrusted himself up into his friend. The Hunter yelped and growled at the intrusion. The Smoker's tongue wrapped around his friend tighter and tighter as he forced himself further upwards. Doing this standing up was easier than it seemed- as they both have experience doing harder tasks.

The Hunter struggled for freedom as the taller pulled himself out and shoved himself back in, desperate to ease his desire. The Hunter soon got the Smoker to fall, so they were both on their knees. This was counterproductive on the Hunter's part, seeing as it allowed the Smoker easier access. The Hunter screamed and snarled, writhing and squirming to be let free. The Smoker bucked his hips forward, enjoying every second of the Hunter's tight entrance, which was slowly growing wet with sex. The Hunter, however, felt that thick, huge dick ribbed with the tumors of infection move in and out of him painfully hard. The Smoker would push himself in so fast their skin would clap together and the tip of his dick would nail the Hunter right in the bundle of nerves that drove every experienced man over the edge. But the Hunter was sadly, sadly inexperienced, and not only wasn't sure of this new feeling, but alarmed that it caused him pain. He would snarl and let out pitiful yelps along with frightening shrieks and bone chilling screams which would bounce and echo off of the many building of the city. The Smoker, for the first time since the infection hit, would grin and grunt in pleasure.

The pace quickened and the Hunter became desperate for freedom. The Smoker was relentless, fucking the poor thing into the roof of the building. The taller gripped his friend's hips, digging his nails into the hot flesh. Blood trickled and fell to the concrete from the Hunter's new wounds. Pumping and thrusting, the Smoker was unaware at the slight pain he was causing his buddy. Even if he did know, he wouldn't care. He was almost at his peak, and wasn't giving up for the world, or the enticing sight of survivor skin. In, out, in, out, the Smoker's pace was hard and fast and each time he thrusted in the Hunter would give a pained yelp in pleasure, as his prostate would be hit each time.

The Hunter had given up in trying to free himself as the Smoker neared his finish. The infected thrust up hard, his throbbing dick begging for release. The grip on the Hunter's hips was relentless, blood staining the Smoker's fingertips. His tongue was nowhere near tired as his squeezed the Hunter even tighter. The Hunter's shrieks had dimmed in just the slightest. His lips were coated with saliva as his own tongue lolled lazily out, panting like a dog. The sun's heat bore down upon them as the Smoker was in his final seconds above the edge of his peak. His muscles flexed and his thrusts were hard and fast, not to mention deep. Finally, he shoved himself deep inside his friend's tight ass and came hard, pushing his seed deep inside of the Hunter.

The Smoker's grip loosened and his tongue fell limp around his victim. The hunter panted and lay tummy down, exhausted on the concrete. The Smoker pulled himself out and fumbled to put himself back in his pants, which was surprising, seeing as infected act as animals, and animals wouldn't care about such decency. The Smoker then stood and looked down at his tired victim, now thirty times hotter because of the recent exertion. The shorted rolled over onto his back, glaring up at the taller, who just looked in stupor.

It sure was going to be impossible to work together for a while, but the two comrades had just found new means of entertainment while they were waiting.


End file.
